You are too distracting.
I’ll stop to take a look. Then turn back for a second look.
I’ll stop to smile and soak in the feels.
You are too correct.
The lines. The curves. The diagonals.
The colours. The smells. The timing and pace.
Simply nothing I want changed.
There you are and then you’re gone.
I thought I saw you, but I did not.
At least I saw you in my mind even if I did not.
Why are you so seldom.
Never around enough.
Yet appearing when I’ve no time for you.
Just a little beyond reach.
Beauty my vice.